


Perfect Wingman

by Marty (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 23:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/325251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Marty





	Perfect Wingman

You wake up with a start as you feel hands gripping your shoulders, then sliding down your back. Those hands pause in the middle of your back, between your wings, to press against the skin there and rub, and you can’t deny the little sound that comes out of your mouth.

“Oh! You’re up,” he says, hands leaving your back immediately.

“Don’t stop,” you say softly, barely above a whisper. The hands return, and you’re groaning his name. “Oh god, John, that feels amazing.” Backrubs are the best. Backrubs are the very, very best.

His hands only hesitate for a moment when you moan, and then he’s continuing, thumbs rubbing little circles into the base of each wing, and then you’re letting out little sighs and gasps and he hesitates again.

“Dave? Maybe I should… Stop. Or something.”

You shift under his touch, letting out a little chirp that you will definitely deny later. “No, dude, this is so perfect. My back is all tense and shit. Please?”

He waits a moment, then continues, and you’re gasping again and—Oh.

Now you get it.

Your wings are like an erogenous zone or some shit.  
You squirm and he stops.

“Kay, yeah, you’re- you’re probably right, you should stop.”

You squirm away from him and he gives you a confused look, then seems to notice that you’ve got a boner. “Oh geez. I didn’t… I didn’t realize that would be a thing! I mean, I know most birds get horny when you pet them between their wings, but I didn’t really… Think it applied to you. Uh.” There’s a long silence where your body takes a moment to completely rebel against you. Your neck feathers puff up in what you assume is arousal and your dick is completely hard and he’s just looking down at you and your face feels hot all the way to the tips of your ears. “This is… Kind of my fault. Let me help you.”

“John, what?” He stares at you and he looks like he’s being serious. “You…” He smiles and you and you bite your lip. “Fuck. Please.”

The smile on his face only widens a little as he leans in to you, hand moving to your back to rub at that spot between your wings again. You rut up against him, unable to bring yourself to be ashamed, and he wraps a hand around your dick, bringing a strange sort of sound from your mouth that’s halfway between a groan and a caw. When he leans down and presses his lips to your neck feathers, you make that noise again, and he laughs quietly.

“What?”

“You keep making bird noises.”

“I can’t help it.” A short pause. “Please don’t stop.”

He does as you ask, beginning to jerk his hand up and down, making you gasp and moan and make little birdlike noises that you’ll never admit to later.  
You hadn’t realized just how much you needed to be touched.

You gasp his name when he gives you a squeeze, and he just smiles at you, then casually unzips his jeans and presses his dick against yours.

His hand was all well and good, but when he presses himself against you and wraps a hand around both of you, it feels like electricity is running through your spine and you can’t help but buck up against him.

His hand is still rubbing at that spot between your wings, pressing harder, now. All the sensations are almost too much, and you grip his shoulders tightly, your talonlike fingers digging in just the slightest bit. You’re holding onto him for dear fucking life and he’s just rutting down against you like this is a normal thing, messing around with your best friend’s half-bird clone-thing.

You press your mouth to his as he groans your name, then move to his jaw and his neck, licking and sucking as you go along. You shift where you’re sitting so you can wrap your tail around him, first around his waist and then around his thigh because it feels too strange not to have it wrapped around anything while he’s doing this. You give a squeeze and he mimics it with the hand he’s got wrapped around your dick and his, and then you groan against his skin and cling tighter to him.

He pulls away from your mouth to kiss you, right on the lips, making you gasp in surprise. John’s kissing you. You wonder if he’s doing this because he feels sorry for you, but you push that thought away as soon as it runs through your mind, because John is kissing you and touching you and you aren’t going to wreck it for yourself by overthinking it.

His mouth is still moving against yours, and he moves his hand from between your wings to the base of one wing, rubbing little circles into your skin and smiling into the kiss when your hips buck up aginst his.

“John, I—” You gasp and buck up harder when his fingers tighten around your dick and his tongue moves against your lips. Your lips part, but you pull away a bit to speak. “I’m so close, please don’t stop,” you whisper, and then his mouth is back on yours, he’s moving faster, his hands are being just that slightest bit rougher, and you’re so close, and you feel warm all over as he pushes you over the edge with one little squeeze. You thrust against him as you ride out your orgasm, your come getting on his hand, on his shirt, on your bandages.

His hand is pulled away from between your wings and you look up at him, panting, as he pulls away from you altogether and sits up. His hand, the one that had been gripping your dick and his, goes to his mouth and he actually licks it as he jerks himself off, finishing with a quiet whimper.

He leans over to you and nuzzles his nose against your neck feathers. “Sorry about that, dude,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“That’s… That’s fine,” you say, cupping his cheek in your hand and bringing him in for another kiss on the lips. He kisses you back. You take this as a good sign. Then he laughs.

“I should probably go wash my hands and change my shirt, I guess.” Then he gets up and he’s leaving the room, and you slump back against the little pile of pillows you’ve got.

You aren’t a hundred percent sure what prompted that, but you’re okay with it, whatever it was.


End file.
